


My Queen

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya Bran and Rickon are all alive but just briefly mentioned, Begging, Blow Jobs, Cousin Incest, Dom Sansa, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hand Jobs, Jonsa Smut Week, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post Series, Queen Sansa, R plus L equals J, Sansa wears her crown in bed like a BAMF, Spanking, Sub Jon, Teasing, jon and sansa have a baby Robb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 20:44:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12896427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: Jon paused the movement of his spoon for a brief second before he glanced at her. Before he could deny her, she reached out, fingers tracing his knee softly. He frowned down at the touch, wide eyes jumping back to her when she gave it a light squeeze, Myranda’s letter was still churning in her brain.Command him and his attention, tell him he has been a naughty boy and simply must make it up to you... Make him beg pardon and mercy from his Queen.“Let me rephrase that,” she purred, remembering what Myranda had said about needing to be assertive. “You will visit your Queen’s chambers tonight.”(When Sansa realises that Jon let himself become so caught up in being King in the North he has exhausted himself and is unable to attend to her needs, she takes it upon herself to teach him not to be so stupid next time)Day 7 Jonsa Smut week: Dom/Sub,





	My Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Sansa wearing a crown in bed is my new head canon. Season 8 Jonsa scene please!

Since the time she found out she was carrying Robb to now, Jon had hardly touched her beyond cuddling. And that was when he had still visited her chambers at all. It has been moons since she shared a bed with him in any sense.

At first, she had understood the reason, the maesters always said it could harm the babe for her to engage in sexual activities and although she was certain this wasn’t true from what she could remember of Myranda’s constant talks in the Vale, she hadn’t pushed him into it if he had been nervous. After all, his mother had died in the birthing bed so Jon had every reason to be over-cautious and follow every advice the maesters gave.

And obviously, after the birth she had needed time to heal and nurse their son. She hadn’t grudged his withdrawal then either, in fact, in those first few weeks of becoming a mother she had been thankful for her gentle, considerate husband who was giving her time to adjust to this new life before resuming his marital rights.

But now Robb was almost four moons old and Sam had deemed her well enough to engage in sex again well over a moon ago.

Yet Jon still hadn’t come to her.

She wondered if he had found a mistress while she had been unable to give him pleasure when she had been with child and in the time since. The thought made her sick and she found herself staring intently at all the women that crossed paths with Jon, watching silently to see how they reacted to him, how he reacted to them. Anything that would give her a clue to who might be replacing her in his bed and, she dreads, even his heart.

So far, he didn’t seem to be giving any woman particularly attention beyond polite greetings and the odd thank you as they served him his meals or ale. Nothing to suggest he was bedding any of them and Sansa’s heart lifted slightly as this continued for a few days, finally convinced enough that he was being faithful. Deep in her heart, she knew Jon never would bed another woman while married to her and when she realised how she could think so little of him she had felt so ashamed that she had cried herself to sleep.

Still, even as she reassured herself that Jon would be faithful to her, the insecurities were still swimming in her head. Was he bored of her? Was he no longer interested knowing that having a babe changed a woman’s body?

One night, it became too much and after supper she made her way to his chambers to confront him. He had left the table not long before her so she had expected to find him bathing or at least sitting with a cup of ale.

But instead, Jon was lying on his stomach on the bed, snoring softly and still fully clothed. She blinked at the sight, shutting the door softly behind her as she padded towards him. He was fast asleep, not even twitching as her hand pushed through his hair. Her eyes fell on the desk in the corner, the books that lay scattered across the surface all open on different pages, and to the pile of unopened letters beside them.

In hindsight, she should have known that Jon had a lot of duties as King in the North that would take his time and in turn that would mean him dealing with a lot of stress. He had to rebuild supplies that had been decimated from the war against the White Walkers, he had to send constant advice to his Aunt in the south, had to negotiate with the Northern Lords. And since Sansa had been busy recovering from the birth of their son and taking care of Robb, Jon had been dealing with her subjects in the Riverlands and the Vale on her behalf.

She knew she had to get Jon out of this, not just for her own selfish, wanton needs but for his own health. When it got to the point that he couldn’t even undress himself before bed, it was beyond serious in her view. But what she knew about Jon was that he was a creature of duty, a man who aimed to please and to make people proud. He would do everything he could to keep his people’s faith in him and Sansa admired that quality even if it left her aching and wondering how to help him.

_A woman’s best weapon is between her legs_

Cersei’s words echo in her mind and Sansa bit her lip. She knows sex is a simple way of pleasing and relaxing a man. However, she knew it would be difficult for Jon to relax when he had so much to do, knew he would likely protest to even having to bathe longer than was necessary let alone come to bed. He no doubt felt that he was too exhausted to please her and looking at him now, she could guess that to be the reason that he doesn’t initiate sex anymore. He had always been afraid of failing those he loved and admired.

Still, she had to try something.

She left his room as silently as she had entered, making her way back to her own chambers. She crossed to her desk, hands pulling the parchment towards her while the other held the quill above the paper. Taking a deep breath, she started to write.

_Dear Myranda,_

***

She had written to Myranda of her fears for Jon, how she wished to help him but she was unsure what to do. She had flushed at Myranda’s reply but had taken her advice to heart. If Jon was not going to initiate anything, she would have to do it herself, even if it meant she had to “tie him up, ride him to within an inch of his life and make him beg pardon from his Queen!” as Myranda suggested.

She decided to use her stockings for ropes, choosing the ones she had worn on their wedding night and Jon had seemed particularly fond of and she pushed them into the bodice of her dress. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she reached for her crown, placing it gently on her head. She hardly wore it but tonight, she was going to be a Queen in that hall and in their bed if needs be.

She smiled at Gilly when she entered to take Robb from his bed. Her friend had agreed to take her son for the night in order to give her and Jon privacy. Her son gurgled slightly but made no other noise to indicate his displeasure at being moved. Sansa placed a kiss to his head, stroking the soft tuft of auburn curls that were appearing over his skull. Gilly bid her goodnight as she left and Sansa took a deep breath before making her way to the dining hall.

Jon managed a small smile as she entered the hall, the shadows under his eyes ever more prominent since the day she had found him passed out in his bed. He stood as she approached, the other Lords and Ladies extending the same curtesy. She nodded politely as she passed, smiling at their closest allies until she reached the seat next to Jon.

“Will you visit me tonight, my King?” she whispered once she was settled, watching him from the corner of her eye.

Jon paused the movement of his spoon for a brief second before he glanced at her. Before he could deny her, she reached out, fingers tracing his knee softly. He frowned down at the touch, wide eyes jumping back to her when she gave it a light squeeze, Myranda’s letter was still churning in her brain.

_Command him and his attention, tell him he has been a naughty boy and simply must make it up to you. Tie him up, play with his cock, suck him until he is on the edge, ride him to within an inch of his life but don’t’ let him finish. Make him beg pardon and mercy from his Queen._

“Let me rephrase that,” she purred, remembering what Myranda had said about needing to be assertive. “You _will_ visit your Queen’s chambers tonight.”

His breath escaped in a sharp exhale, his eyes widening at her command and she smirks at how his pupils dilate, swallowing the grey. He gave her a small nod and returned to his meal. Sansa began to hum cheerfully to herself as her hand moved up to his thigh, giving it a small squeeze. Jon tensed, clearing his throat loudly and casting her a sidelong look. She ignored him, daintily dipping her spoon into the broth and sipping. She gave an exaggerated moan at the taste, her eyes closing slowly as though it was the best thing she had ever tasted. She felt a slight twitch by her knuckles, where his cock lay under his clothes and smiled to herself.

“Sansa,” he warned lowly, shooting her a glare. She blinked at him innocently.

“Yes, husband?” she replied, moving her hand so her palm lies directly over his bulge, pressing lightly until he hissed.

“Not here!” he muttered as he began to grow hard. She raised her eyebrows innocently but withdrew her hand, letting it settle on her own thigh as she continued to eat.

“Come straight to my chambers husband,” she commanded once she was done.

Rickon blinked in confusion, still not quite old enough to know what happened in a marriage. Arya scrunched her nose up and shook her head as she continued to eat. She was surprisingly accepting of the relationship, only asking that they be more discreet in their passion because she has no need to see Jon’s bare arse and Sansa’s teats when she only wanted a peaceful walk in the woods. That passion had been before she had been with child though, before the stress of running a Kingdom, effectively all Seven Kingdoms at least until Daenerys grasped the ways of Westeros without the need for Jon’s advice, had overcome Jon and kept him from her bed.

_Spank his arse red until he promises never to ignore your needs again._

She bit into her lips as she rushed from the hall to her chambers, leaving the door unlocked for him to arrive. She takes off her boots and, after a moment, slipped her hand under to pull her smallclothes down. She left her dress on though, as she wanted to surprise him with the stockings idea. She does however, loosen the bodice a little and pulled it down to allow him a bigger eyeful of her cleavage. She braced a hand to the table and waited.

She left her crown on.

He doesn’t take long to arrive. He closed the door softly behind him and looks at her curiously.

“Sansa, I…”

“Is that how you address a Queen?” she interrupted, lifting her chin defiantly. He blinked in surprise, mouth hanging open as his sentence died in his throat at her words. She raised an eyebrow as she squared her shoulders and let her eyes rake down his body slowly.

“Well?” she prompted, when she looked at his face again. Jon swallowed thickly.

“Your Grace,” he replied smoothly. “I...”

“Are you not supposed to bend the knee to a Queen?” she interrupted again, smiling innocently as his nostrils flared.

For a moment, there is a thick silence in the room as she awaits to see if he will follow her rules. And then, she hummed appreciatively as he dropped to one knee and bent his head respectively. When he raised it again, he opened his mouth to speak. But again, Sansa channels her Queenly role and cuts him off.

“And are you not supposed to wait to be addressed by your Queen before you speak?” she reminded him, giving a mocking tut. Jon narrowed his eyes but remained silent.

“Pardon, Your Grace,” he bit out her title and Sansa tutted again.

“You have a terrible attitude,” she said. “Being disrespectful to a Queen is bad enough but to leave your wife in need, that is shameful.”

“Sansa…”

“I am still speaking,” she cut in, finally pushing off the table to circle around him, the excitement rushing through her as Jon turned his head to track her movements, confusion etched across his face. “You have been a very bad, _bad_ boy Jon.”

Hs breath hitched as his wide eyes find hers. She can’t help but feel smug at the surprise on his face or the arousal she noted. He was taking deep breaths through his nose, his pupils swallowing his eyes as he watched her and she smirked at the power she had over him right now.

“Your Grace,” he began but Sansa placed a finger to his mouth, pressing his lips together to prevent him from speaking.

“If you speak out of turn again, I will gag you… or spank you until you remember your courtesies,” she warned, giving him a teasing grin with her last threat. Jon whimpered, his eyes closing and his lips trembled beneath her finger before he gave her a nod of compliance. “Good, now get up and undress yourself.”

She moved away after her command, idly pouring herself a cup of wine before she turned to face him again. He had taken his boots off and was pulling his shirt over his head, his stomach muscles rippling with the movement and Sansa hummed in appreciation at the sight.

She leaned back against the edge of the table, sipping her wine leisurely as he undoes the laces of his breeches and shoves them down his legs. His cock springs free, bobbing slightly as it escapes his clothing and she quirked an amused eyebrow at how it ends up pointed at her.

Jon’s chest heaved as he looked at her, his hands clenched at his side as though part of him is wanting to shield his sex from her view. Sansa kept her eyes on his face, daring him to cover himself but Jon stands his ground. Sansa gave him a wide smile as she set the cup down and stalked towards him.

She let her fingertips trace his abdomen, caressing the muscles there. Her hand drifts to his back as she circled him and she grinned to herself as she looked at his pert arse. She thought of Myranda’s words again, and she feels herself grow wet at the thought of that glorious flesh turning red and hot under her palms. She gave a cheek a squeeze and Jon jerked, his head shooting over her shoulder to look at her in shock.

“Sansa!”

She knows him well enough to know that while he is confused by her touch and surprised, he is curious and aroused. And so, she continued.

“What did I tell you about speaking out of turn?” she snapped before she gave the cheek a firm swat and Jon chocked back a surprised moan.

“I’m sorry Your Grace!” he corrected quickly, his dark eyes finding hers as she comes back to stand in front of him.

_So, he liked being spanked it seems. That bodes well._

“Good,” she noted before she stood tall again. “So, Jon, tell me. Why have you been a bad boy?”

His cock twitched at her words and she smirked at him, amused at the fact that it is him blushing now when usually it is him leaving her flushed in arousal as he plays with her body. But then he gave her a wicked grin of his own as he met her eyes and she knew he was going to push his boundaries, was going to test her.

“I…I have deprived my lovely, wanton wife of my cock for too long and she has become desperate it seems,” he replied simply, his grin widening as Sansa glared at him.

“On the bed. Face down,” she commanded, pointing to the bed. “Put your hands up on the pillow above your head.”

He gave her a curious glance at her command but does as he is told. She took the stockings from her bodice as he walked to the bed and she unties the laces to allow the bodice to fall open and free her breasts. She left her dress on however as she watched him lie on the furs and stretch his hands up above him.

“I’m going to tie you up now,” she said but she let her voice increase a little with the question. She waited to see what he would do or say. And then, he gave a small nod, his breath coming out harshly and she smiled.

She banded his wrists together with one stocking and then tied that to the end of the other before reaching over to connect it to the bed post. When she was done, she saw Jon looking at her intently before he noticed her exposed breasts, his eyes fixing on her chest as they jiggled with her movement. They were bigger since she had Robb and his interested stare told her he had definitely noticed.

“Now,” she said lightly, grabbing some oil from her nightstand before moving to straddle the back of his thighs. “As I said Jon, you have been a bad boy for a few reasons. Firstly, you have left me terribly neglected, denying me your cock as you said. Secondly, you disrespected your Queen’s authority and failed to show me basic courtly curtesy and finally, you have now mocked me and my needs. You are a very naughty boy. And naughty boys are _punished_!

Jon yelped as her palm came down on his left cheek, the cracking sound echoing in the air. He groaned as she proceeded to smack the right cheek.

“Fuck!” he moaned, burying his head in the gap of his arms. She smacked him harder, his body jerking from the force and a choked moan pushing past his lips.

“Still disrespecting your Queen with filthy language?” she quirked as her palm came down again and Jon shuddered.

She was fascinated at how his glorious arse was turning red under her assault, heat rising from it as her palm retreated. And Jon’s arms tensed as he pulled at his binds, whimpering helplessly until the sensation started becoming too much.

“I’ll be good!” Jon moaned. “Please, Your Grace, I’ll be good!”

“Will you?” she asked, stopping her punishment for the moment. Jon nodded, panting harshly and when he turned his head she noted how flushed his cheeks were and how his eyes were completely black, not a slither of grey to be found.

_Jon, you liked that didn’t you? You dirty boy!_

“So,” she commented, palm resting on his left arse cheek softly. “What do you have to say to me?”

“I am sorry Your Grace,” he replied immediately. “I am sorry for being such a terrible husband to you.”

“Hmmm, good boy,” she answered lightly as she opened the oil and poured it on his flaming cheeks, causing him to jerk again at the cool liquid on his red-hot skin. He moaned softly as she massaged the oil in, admiring how his skin glowed in the firelight.

She gave his flesh a mocking pat before she let her hand rest at his hip, tugging slightly in silent command. He shifted at her touch, pushing his body up and allowing her to move her hand under him to help him flip onto his back. The stocking twist slightly but that will make it harder for him to break free, she reasoned. All the easier to get him begging, she thought with a grin that had Jon swallowing thickly as he looked up at her.

She moved her body suddenly, rearing up so that she can press her mouth to his, her hands gripping his cheeks as she swipes her tongue over his lips. He parted them with a moan and she let her tongue slide in. His hands curl around the binding, pulling at them slightly and she reached down to give his thigh a small swat before she pulled away from him, his head instantly chasing her until the stockings go tight and force him back.

“Apologising was all very well Jon,” she said primly. “But you still need to learn never to treat me like that again. Spanking was just the start of your punishment.”

She grinned at the hiss he released as her thumb skimmed his nipples, rolling over them the way he does with hers. He bucked beneath her, groaning as she teases his flesh into hard peaks. He strained against the binds, his eyes finding hers as his body writhed beneath her teasing fingertips that stroke up and down his straining belly.

“Your Grace,” he panted as her fingers brush tauntingly through the course hairs that lead to his waiting, swollen cock. She moved her free arm under her chin, feigning interest in his words as her hand brushed lower, lower, _lower._

“Yes, Jon?” she purred as her knuckles bump against his flesh, causing him to hiss before she retreated her hand again, just out of reach of his sensitive flesh.

“Please,” he moaned helplessly, pulling harder at the binds and the bed gave a creak in protest.

“Please what?” she asked, hand skimming past his cock to stroke the inside of his right thigh. Jon gasped, blinking several times as he tried to gain some composure.

“Please touch me,” he whimpered. “Touch my cock!” he added quickly when he saw her mouth opening and the teasing glint in her eye that said ‘I _am_ touching you.’

“Well, I suppose you are behaving better,” she responded, trailing her finger along the length of him a few times before Jon huffed, his teeth digging into his bottom lip and she wraps her whole palm around him, stroking him in a slow, teasing motion.

Jon moaned, feet slamming down on the bed to help buck his hips up, thrusting his length desperately into her grasp and his arms pulled tight above him. The slick movements echoed around them, drowned out only by Jon’s small gasps and groans as Sansa swirls her thumb around his slit, gathering the moisture there before stroking him again, harder, faster.

“Uuuuugh,” Jon groaned, panting and straining, his hips tilting up frantically into the warm clutch of her palm. His teeth bite into his lip, his eyes clenched shut and she waited, waited…

She squeezed him at the base as he was on the brink, halting his release. His eyes flew open and his vulnerable gaze looked up at her, his lips parted in shock and she noted the hint of annoyance on his face. She raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” she chimed. “I just thought of all those letters on your desk and thought, perhaps you should see to them.”

“No!” he cried, his head shaking so furiously that his curls fall into his eyes.

“Are you sure?” she continued as she stroked his thigh. “You must know what you are doing since you don’t ask help from Sam or Davos or myself or anyone at all.”

“I didn’t want to burden them and especially not you!” he countered, tone harsh still from his stolen release. She hummed before she suddenly dived down, parted his thighs and took the head of his cock in her mouth before he could think about what she was doing.

He moaned, long and deep as his hips thrusted up into her mouth. She descended on him, wrapped her hand around what she cannot take and begins bobbing her head over his length. Before long, his stomach began to clench, his breath became laboured again and his thighs quaked under her hands. She could taste the saltiness on his tip, the light dribble telling her he was close once again. She pulled off of him suddenly.

 “Seven hells!” he yelled, breathing hard through his nose.

Her crown had fallen off when she had dived down upon him. She reached to pick it up and placed it daintily back on her head before she carried on.

“You did burden me though,” she said, as though she hadn’t just started sucking his cock and was merely continuing their conversation. He blinked up at her, frowning as he tried to remember what they had said. “You burdened me because you made me feel unloved and unwanted. By shutting me out, you made me feel you did not desire me anymore!”

His eyes softened then. “Sansa, I love you so much. I want you all the time, even when I am too exhausted to do anything.”

She moved to straddle him, grasping his cock in her hands and running it teasingly through her folds. He whined softly, eyes widening and a long moan escaping him as he realised from the feel of her that she had no small clothes on under her dress.

“You will never be so stupid, again will you?” she demanded, raising herself to press the head of him at her entrance, barely letting him breech her. He groaned and shook his head desperately. “You will ask for help if it gets to much. From Sam, from Davos, from me, Arya or Bran, even Rickon, from fucking Ghost if necessary.”

He snorted in amusement at her last command but sobered quickly at her cool look. He licked his lips and nodded quickly, several times.

“I promise,” he said before he smirked. “Your Grace.”

She slammed down on him, her hands bracing his chest as he bucks up with a curse. She begins a slow pace, hands pressing him firmly down as her hips undulate over him, her breasts jiggling softly with the harsh pace she sets and Jon is babbling beneath her with his eyes closed again.

“Please, please, please,” he moaned and Sansa stopped moving, reaching up to tilt his chin up and watching his eyes open to look at her.

“You will never neglect me again Jon,” she commanded.

“Never,” he groaned. “I’m sorry. Let me touch you, please!”

“Beg my pardon,” she said, breath catching in her throat as she started to descended on him again, rolling her hips faster and harder over him.

“Your…urgh… Your Grace!” he panted, his eyes flickering back and forth as he stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds, trying to stop himself being distracted as she bounced on him over and over. “Your Grace, I beg..urrrngh…beg your forgiveness, I…ahhh…I ha-aave been most…mmm..most….oh fuck…”

She grinned as he glared at her for tightening her muscles over him, and raised an eyebrow to remind him he hadn’t finished. He huffed, breathing deep as he continued.

“I have been most insensitive of your needs, I...aaaah…I promise not to…hmph….not to do it aaaaa…again. Forgive me…” he trailed off with another desperate moan as she gave a particularly hard roll of her hips.

He groaned as she lifted off of him suddenly and stepped to the side of the bed. She took her crown off, placing it on the nightstand and then pulled her dress off. She quickly returned and sank down on him again, his fingers clenching in the binds as a result. She reached up to untie the stocking from the post first, her hips starting a slow pace in the process and then she reached to untie the binds at his wrists. He hissed as his arms wrench apart but his discomfort only lasted for a second before he braced his hands on the bed, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around her, helping to slam her down on him again and again and again. He latched his mouth on to her nipple, moaning and sucking around the bud and she keened, hands flying into his hair to keep him there. His right hand caressed her back as he moved it, stroking her hip and then moving down to the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex.

“Yes,” she moaned as she released him from her breast to allow her to bury her face in his neck and felt him do the same, his breath against her making her shiver against him, her arms tightened around his neck. She whimpered as she felt her pleasure course through her, falling boneless against him.

“Sansa,” he groaned desperately, giving her shoulder a kiss before he flipped them over, pushing her legs up to her chest. His thrusts were desperate, she knew he wouldn’t last much longer. She wasn’t going to have another release from this but she liked the feel of him moving within her all the same.

“My sweet wife, and my deadly Queen,” he grinned down at her as his hips started to jerk erratically, face turning into a slight grimace before he shuddered with his release.

She moaned as he pressed his mouth to hers desperately, his hands coming to tangle in her hair and hold her cheek as he drives his tongue inside of her, caressing her mouth with his unspoken love and devotion. When he parted from her, he rested his forehead to hers and gave her a small smile.

“I am so sorry I made you feel unwanted Sansa,” he murmured as he settled next to her and pulled her to lie on his chest. “I swear I won’t allow myself to get so caught up in all the work again.”

“Good,” she yawned, eyes fluttering shut as he caressed her back.

“But…” he said suddenly, a hint of uncertainty in his tone that had her glancing up at him curiously. He is biting his lip as he looked at her before speaking. “But, does that mean you won’t play as my Queen in bed again?”


End file.
